


That little fragment of Life

by reckless_love



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Thorin, Bottom Thranduil, Feelings, Inspired by Music, M/M, Masturbation, Mostly top thranduil, Orgasm Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Philosophy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Thranduil is naughty, Thranduil is wicked, Top Thorin, Top! Thranduil, but only for a short time, only one, other character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reckless_love/pseuds/reckless_love
Summary: Essentially Thorinduil.What happens when Thorin, I.T. tech,  meets Thranduil, who has a problem with his laptop?





	1. When we first met

**Author's Note:**

> Let's start with it.  
> This is "chapter 0", that is how the story begins. In my mind there will be 5 chapters but I'm not sure: maybe more. I am going to post as soon as I can. Be patient, my mothertongue is not English. Be kind, this is my first fiction. Also, my style is 100% European, whatever it means.  
> Here you will find small things like music, philosophy, books and arts.  
> I will update tags chapter by chapter  
> I hope you enjoy it.

>   
>  It's just a feeling  
>  I get sometimes  
>  A feeling  
>  Sometimes  
>  And I get frightened  
>  Just like you  
>  I get frightened too  
>  But it's...
> 
> _No Time to Cry_ \- **Sisters of Mercy**
> 
>  

When the little bell of the little shop clings, Thorin curses under his breath.  
First, he hates that sound. And second....  
Friday. 7.38 pm.  
Why he always forgets to lock the door when the clock informs him that’s the right time? He doesn’t know.

”Just a moment, please” he remebers to speak, finally, and his voice sounds clean and a bit lower from the little laboratory (the very heart of the shop) under the little stair that unites the entrance with the lab.

”No hurry” said a voice, a male voice, soft, deep and collected with a nice accent. “I know I’m over the time…but I saw the light from the outside and I tried only”. He explains. ”I’m a bit desperate” he adds.

No answer back. And it takes one minute or two extra before Thorin’s metallic steps resound as he comes the stairs up with his heavy military boots.

”How can I help...” and the sight cuts his breath off.

Before him stands a young guy. Twenty-something-more-or-less. He is tall, probably one of the most tall he has ever seen. The face is a little pointy, as pale as the milk, with beautiful well-shaped lips. And his eyes are luminous and light blue with a shade of grey. So bright that neither the black big framed-glasses can hide them or diminuish the splendour. And his hair...gods, is this real? Long and straight the hair runs. Long back lenght, at least. The color is impressive. A soft shiny light blond...no, wait...not enough. Thorin tries to think how many colors he would use to describe them. Gold...silver...white...moon and stars. He’s wearing a long, black, elegant coat. It seems to be made of very soft but resistent wool. The collar is high to protect the neck from the foggy-cold wind of Paris. Thorin is impressed, also, by how many things he’s catching and thinking while the man is speaking. Giving no fuck to what is said. He just enjoys the view and let his thought wander.

”...and so I’m trying here because I’m very desperate. You know, all my work is in my laptop and I have no external memory or cloud or…nah, yet. Can you save it? Can you do anything?” ask inquisitively the man showing the laptop in a black skin, as he bits his lower full lip. The upper lip is thinner but likewise well shaped.

”Oh ..so... d-did your laptop fall to the ground?” ask Thorin in a confused way.

”As I told you” remark the man gently ”simply it’s not working anymore. I tried to swich it on a couple of hours ago but...nothing happened. My friend told me that you did a little miracle with his phone, so I came here straight after work. Can you do anything?” says shortly the young man.

Thorin tries to compose himself –again– in the most quick way and in the most professional way: ”Sure I can. But I cannot promise you anything. If the problem is something about the mother-board...we are fucked up” while he walks to the cash desk. In that chaos, he grabs a little notebook and a pen and starts writing something down in his horrible handwriting that can be understood by Thorin and Thorin only.

”I have a lot of work to do during this week-end but I will check it for sure” as he continues to write ”may you come here on Monday? Or, if you want, leave me your phone number and you’ll call you on Monday morning to decide what to do” says Thorin, and he can’t stand to blush a little.  
Why is he blushing? This is normal...this is how work works. That’s so stupid.

”Oh yes, great idea. I’m leaving you my phone number: I’m not sure I can come here on Monday” says the young man thoughtfully.

Thorin gives him the black pen and the notebook. The young man writes numbers and it’s a pleasure for Thorin to observe how elegantly his long fingers move around the bic pen. The young man gives the note back. Thorin checks the perfect handwriting. Sometimes clients don’t remember properly their number... or switch the digits...or don’t add their name and surname. Then Thorin repeats the number.

”Yep”, nods the blond man.

”And your name is...?” ask Thorin.

”Oh, you’re right...I forgot it, sorry. I can write it for you...you know, the spelling may be hard for I’m not French”.

”Thran-duil O-ro-pher-ion” says Thorin after short time.

“Yes, you got it!”, aswers the young man smiling softly.

*Where are you from...how old are you...do you want a beer...what is your sexual orientation... may I smell your hair...please, don’t leave me now...* Thorin would ask and beg but the only thing he is going to do is to tend his right hand to the stranger with a small piece of paper: a business card in which is written «Thorin Oakenshild, electronic devices, street, phone number and opening time».

”Thanks! So so, I’ll wait for your call…Thorin” says the man checking the name on the small paper, “Please, be patient if I don’t answer right away. But I always call back as soon as I can” he adds.

”As you wish” says Thorin drily, thinking that’s shamefully embarassing how he’s choosing his words.  
That’s not a matter of wish, he understands. That’s work. Only work. Only life. And he feels tired after a full-hell-week of work.

The young man steps lightly forward and studies Thorin’s face for some seconds with his piercing eyes. Saying nothing. Thorin thinks...well, he doesn’t think anything. His mind is blank. Someone could shot him down at that moment...he bearly would notice it. Or feel it.

Eventually, Thranduil smiles softly and nods with the head: ”Farewell”,  he says, with a hint of doubt in his deep voice. Then he goes outside the shop.  
Thorin stands still for some seconds. He has not even hailed the young man.

”I’m a dick”, he thinks, ”100% dick”.

He approaches the door, checks outside...but the man is gone. He locks the door and goes back to his lab down the little iron stair.

*******************************************

As Thranduil walks in the tedious Parisian fog-rainy late evening, he thinks that he is used to every kind of glances. This is his work. To face them like a strong rock attacked by water. Mostly he has seen loving glances, shocked glances, hateful glances, envious glances and, above all, lustful glances. But never a shy-embarrassed glance because of his presence. He will think about it, once at home, with a big steaming cup of his fav Finnish strong coffee.


	2. Every you every me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introspective chapter about characters personalities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this introspective moment. I think it's important to know something more about their features. The title of the chapter is a Placebo'song. I've chosen it for three reasons. In my mind "every you every me" has different meanings: 1. it's a mirror image, as the chapter is built 2. Thorin and Thranduil portray two "philosophical" archetypes 3. it's a prelude of happiness.

> Pain from inside. Transforming him.  
>  Thus he had grown into a Man of Iron
> 
> _Blood on Ice_ -  **Bathory**
> 
>  

Same Friday. 10.03 pm.

Walking is a good habit, always. Even if it’s Friday and it’s very late in the night. Even if it’s foggy and the cold fingers of autumn soak in your bones. Even if you have to walk for 4  km. And so, Thorin mutters under his breath.

His stupid car is broken again. His cousin, Balin, the owner of the biggest garage in Paris, used to say the car was not worth the money and the time it took. And Thorin used to answer always in the same way: ” money, at least, will keep alive one memory”. Year after year Balin fixes the car every time it breaks, changing expensive and rare pieces. That car is Thorin’s father’s car.

His backpack is particularly heavy today. Oh that’s right, there’s one extra laptop covered in a black skin. Maybe he’s an illustrator, he thinks. Thorin easily images the young man sitting with his graphics tablet, drawing … drawing what? Landscapes. People. Comics. An illustrator without a memory? This cannot be. A musician. Someone like a violinist or a pianist, with his long elegant fingers. What about a writer? Who lives inside his own head, where he spends most of his time. And doesn’t care about technology…only feeling and perceptions. This fits. Thranduil might be a writer. So all his work is trapped inside one little box that decided to not collaborate anymore.

More than one hour passes when he reaches home. Keys on the little table next to the entrance, shoes near the door, backpack on the sofa. Routine. Then he opens the table in the living room and takes a little package. There’s written a date on it. More or less one month and half ago. In that moment he recalls his grandfather:

“Listen carefully to me, Thorin”, he said watching his young grandson, who was all ears for him, “I’m going to teach you one important method. Each time you have doubts, when you hesitate...use it. It will always help you with the right choice, this is a promise”.

A rational, logical method to solve everyday life problem. And so he does, as he did in the past: the pros and the cons technique. Relaxing, bliss, flavour, pleasure. Health, smell, go outside, light nausea, defeat. The cons win. The cigarette remains in the package.

“Why is the logic so important now? I’ve fucked up my whole existence in only 6 months…and…where was my logic, at that time? Gods, I need a pizza” Thorin says as he walks to the kitchen to take one maxi pizza from the freezer and put it in the oven.

As pizza bakes, Thorin works at the laptop. Hard disk is working. The guy will be glad. And, more important, he will see him again for sure. As he eats pizza, he intentionally violates Thranduil’s privacy; for technological and academic reasons, of course. The curiosity is killing Thorin, simply.

Well, it seems he’s not a musician, even if there’s a lot of music. And it seems he’s not a writer or an illustrator. Thranduil is a model. Folders of model release forms, professional photos, runway photos, full body shots, shots in casual clothing, shots in business-casual or full suite, group shots, backstage shots with photographers, stylist and fashion designers.

Above all, three photos catches his attention. In the first, a full naked body portrait in profile, the model lay on his back leaning on his elbows, head all the way back, hair floating in the air, eyes shut and half smile; he was such a beauty. The second is a three quarter face portrait; pigments of color spread all over his skin: blue, violet, deep forest green and turquoise. In the third, probably a backstage shot judging by the countless hair clips in his hair, Thranduil was eating a sandwich while he was talking to someone. He is so pure in a very disturbing and insane way.

The good news, thinks Thorin, is about his job: from a working point of view, if he enters a rich world like the fashion world, maybe his future profits will fly high. “A friend of mine has suggested me to come here”, said Thranduil. Good. Very good.

It might be because of the hot water cascade over his body or for the overstimulating hundred photos he has watched or – easily – he just need a quick masturbation, under the shower he cannot keep from touching himself. He reaches down his balls and cups them with his left hand. He enjoys so much starting with this type of attentions: massaging them with circular motions and playing with fingers. He perfectly feels the foam that adds extra sensations. Arousal intensifies quickly. Thinking about _Thranduil’s lips_ , he wraps his right hand strongly around his full erect cock and begins to stroke with slow movements. Tossing his head back, he fells the hot water running pleasantly and his mind wanders to _Thranduil’s blond hair_. Unconsciously he bites his lower lip and increases the speed. _His naked body_. Longing for more, strokes become faster, harder and unashamed. _His perfect feet_. He pants heavily as orgasm builds up inside of his groin. With a filthy groan he comes, while the hot water washes away the white residues of his sin.

As he styles his wet hair in a lower bun, he thinks there’s no sexual satisfaction that can fill the hole in his soul. Yet, once in the bed, his mind and body linger on the young man, again.

Sunday. 09.43 am

Thranduil sits in the middle of his large bed, curled up with chin on knee. The steaming cup of Italian style cappuccino in his right hand gives him a comfortable heat. The bright sunlight seeps in through the curtains and embraces him. His hair is styled in a soft side braid. He yawns lightly and then he takes one little sip of coffee. He really loves coffee.

In front of him, on the wall, a picture is on display. His friend did it for him, handwritten on a refined and very expensive paper. “Aequam memento servare mentem” says the writing: “Remember to keep calm your mind”. That is exactly Thranduil’s essence, his being.

When he was a child, his father, Oropher, used to tell him stories every time they were together, that happened very often. Now, as adult, he finds even more astonishing how his dad could invent so many stories for him:

“One day”, said Oropher, when Thranduil was no more than 10 years old, “you will barely remember my face. I hope that all my stories will remain with you for long”. That memory always brings a sad smile to his face.

 As he smiles, his mobile vibrates. No. He is not going to answer. This is his time, time for him, and he has no desire to change his plan.  Also, in that very moment, he need not to take part to any kind of event or…nah. He is taking the liberty to not answer.  And yes, not that day, not that week. Especially if you are allowed to eat only 450 gr of vegetables and 250 gr of fruits per day. Only because you have to work with a totally lunatic photographer, who enjoys to inflict masochistic clauses in contracts. Probably it’s stimulant and enticing to have such a power over a person and it boosts divine inspiration. Luckily, it will last only few days. Moreover it’s a great honour to work with that photographer: he should be proud of that.  

He feels a bit tired despite a full night’s sleep. All the tension in his back is not solved. He really would enjoy a running and a long restorative sauna session. But under that food regime (also called “model diet”), he would collapse after few minutes. So he has to do otherwise. His favourite book was waiting for him since long time. Now it’s time to rest on his soul once again.


	3. Perfect strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally they meet for the second time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've forgotten to tell you one nice anecdote about the "pros and cons method". Did you know that Kant used it all his life?  
> Back to this chapter: enjoy it.

 

> All my life  
>  I am the echo of your past
> 
> I am returning the echo of a point in time
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  _Perfect strangers_ \- **Deep Purple**
> 
>  
> 
>  

Monday.

The temptation to call him for first is big. But Thorin is resisting. He keeps an organizer with this purpose, that is to respect deadlines and priority. The guy was the last of the day so he has to wait.

And with this brilliant plan he rehearses the speech in his mind, adding tone and tact here and there. Then, he calls Thranduil firstly. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Six rings after Thorin hangs up and swears at himself. Obviously the guy is busy. Not like him, who’s spending precious time with teen-aged thoughts even though his age (that someone should describe as “age of reason”). Belong to the age of reason three “wet nights”? Of course they do.  
At the end Thorin puts up with it and focuses on his organizer.

All of a sudden, five hours later, Thorin’s phone rings:

“Oakenshield”

“Oropherion. Hello there, I’ve just found your call”

“Y-yes…mmm…it’s about your h-hard-disk”.

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s working so you have lost nothing but your laptop is damaged and it’s not worth repairing. But it’s up to you…I cannot decide for you. Frankly, with the same amount of money you buy something new with excellent features” explains one calm Thorin. So calm that his hands are lightly shivering.

“I thought there was that risk. But, in any case, I need a laptop. Do you sell second hand?”

“To be honest, yes, I have one laptop. That’s very good and I can reassure you on it because it’s mine and I don’t need it anymore. I can do you a special price. It has very high level features ‘cause I’m a game player so the mother-board is…”

“I’m sorry, really sorry, to stop you but I have not so much time now and I don’t understand anything about all these stuffs. Please, just tell me that’s not a scam and do a price”.

Pragmatic, easy, quick. Thorin feels disoriented.

“350 euros and, no, I’m not trying to dupe you. «Work lasts all life time, dupe only once» used to say my father”.

Is that a soft laugh that Thorin hears?

“This will be my quote of the day. Thanks for your honesty. Let’s do this. What I have to do?”

“Well, nothing. I’m going to clean it up and restore the operating system and, you know, everything you need. I’ll move all data from your old hard-disk to your new laptop. You’ll have only to switch it on and it will be like nothing happened”.

“Perfect”

“It will be ready for…let me think…on Wednesday. Is it ok for you?”

“It is but I hope it’s ok for you late in the evening”.

“I’m here”.

 

Wednesday.

Thorin should feel more then fulfilled with what happened. On Tuesday he got an urgent call from his old business company. It was his former boss himself who called him, personally. Begging for his help. And what happened is that he spent all the day and half of the next day fixing the whole central system. Beyond money, this is the best satisfaction of the year: one of the most influent society, where he used to be a simple employer, and not so much well valued at that time, _begged_ (and the boss really did it) for him back at least to solve that  little problem. In spite of all the pride he feels, he is behind his work for that and his rigidity cannot approve this.

His first thought is to call Thranduil. If he is going to play well his hand, all will work out for the best. He need to see him again as soon as it possible.

“Oropherion. Hello, Thorin” he answers almost instantly

“Oh, Hello…Hello Thranduil…” say Thorin, not really psychologically-ready to talk with him.

Silence.

“How can I help you?” says Thranduil to support him, smiling.

“Well, I got a problem and I’m very behind with work. But I suppose you should, at least, give a look to _your_ new laptop. It’s a bit weird to buy something without checking it or…without knowing what are you are spending money on. So, if fits to you, come any time before I really start with it”.

“That sounds reasonable. Can we keep our appointment, today late in the evening? Unfortunately I have no exact time”

“I’m here until 9.30 or even longer. I close the door at 7.30 so give me a call when you are outside”.

“Good. Thanks”.

Thorin considers himself not for a shy person. Not at all. Why should he be like so? He knows perfectly what he wants from his professional and private life. Yet, before this young man, he feels like he is has no control over his mind and body. And this thing annoys him so much.

It’s 9.12 when Thranduil sits, legs crossed, in a comfortable chair in Thorin’s lab. Today he is wearing no glasses. His legs are wrapped in jeans that make him look even taller, if this could be possible. He wears a dark grey hoodie.

“Sorry for my hair”, Thranduil feels the need to say, while he is braiding his hair in a side loose braid, “It’s only for work. After a shower they will be normal as usual”.

 Thorin, who is pleased to give him his back, is blushing violently. He decides to not comment. So Thranduil gets the confirm that Thorin knows what job he is talking about: if he was Thorin, he would ask what kind of work requests to dye half of your hair length in a light shade of blue.

Eventually, Thorin finds the strength to leave the working table; he arranges the laptop on the little table before Thranduil and adds one chair next to him:

“I’ve not yet formatted it but it will look like this. First, these are the features: here you can check CPU, RAM, GPU, SSD. That’s more than enough for a normal use but this makes you sure about, at least, two years of full work with no problems”.

As Thorin speaks, Thranduil studies both the laptop’s and Thorin’s features, discreetly. His deep blue eyes behind the glasses, his well-groomed beard, his dark hair gathered up in a low bun at the base of his neck, his hands so strong and big. And those lips, thin and severe. He feels the urge to kiss them, but he resists. Instead, he yawns lightly.

“I’m sorry, I feel so tired today”, says Thranduil stretching his legs.

Thorin turn his head to watch him. He’s so beautiful.

“We are the only two people in Paris who are not at home, at the moment. Do you want a glass of red wine? I think we really deserve it” says Thorin, pursuing Thranduil in the old romantic French way.

“Oh, I’m so sorry but I can’t. Believe me, it’s a pain for me to say no to such a kind offer; it’s rough to refuse a glass of wine in France, I know it, but really I can’t. I would like, I adore wine, but I have some rules to follow, currently. What about Friday? Would your offer be valid on Friday?”

“Together with the laptop, I will serve you a good red wine at best temperature”, says Thorin smiling.

And then, Thranduil moves closer and gives a little peck on Thorin’s lips.

“Oh...I’m sorry…” says Thranduil with fake embarrassment.

Thorin doesn’t know if it’s an effect of Thranduil’ scent, woody and spicy, or the idea that if you kiss someone, you have to be prepared to every kind of consequence. And he is not a shy man. And he cannot accept to be passively kissed by a young model with blue hair in his lab. So he assaults Thranduil’s lips like a hungry man.

What happens after it’s a little mystery. Thorin finds himself pressed against the wall by the weight of Thranduil body. The young model is running his fingers through his hair to undone Thorin’s bun. Once his hair is loosed, he grabs them and pulls as they kiss each other in a violent way. Thorin gasps and bites Thranduil’s lower lip. Thranduil unclasps his grip and breaks the bite to lick and bite Thorin’s neck as his fingers are working quickly to unfasten Thorin’s military trousers. Thorin doesn’t waste his time thinking how lucky he is: he grabs Thranduil’s buttocks with a firm grab and his arousal grows in his pants in a painful way. Thorin is over the limits as his trousers are slipping down, followed by his underpants. Then, Thranduil kneels before Thorin.

Well, even if Thranduil is the one who is kneeled, Thorin is the slave. Slaved in body and mind since the first moment they met.

Thranduil grabs the large cock and wraps his fingers around the length. He starts with slow movements as he keeps eye contact with Thorin. Thorin is blushing. Thranduil wraps his well-shaped lips around the tip of his cock and sucks it. A drop of precum. With a soft moan he takes the whole length in his mouth until the tip of Thorin’s cock press against his throat. As he begins to bob his head up and down, Thorin is lost: too quick, too fast, too unexpected, too much of desire. Thorin comes. Thranduil swallows his seed and licks the head of his softening cock to not waste any drop. Then, he places a little peck on Thorin’s groin. He stands up and kisses Thorin fondly with a little smile on his lips.

As Thranduil walks through the room to reach his coat, Thorin feels the tension on his legs. And he feels embarrassed. What to do now? As he does up his trousers zip, he observes Thranduil: the young man pulls a little jar out of the right pocket of his coat. He opens the jar and takes a little amount of lip balm. Then he spreads it over his perfect lips insisting on the corners. This is a natural gesture but, after all this, in Thorin’s eyes, it looks like perverted, sexy and exciting. He wants more.

“So so, we have a deal. See you on Friday with laptop and wine. The wine is the important thing” says Thranduil smiling, as he put his coat on, “can we keep this time?”.


	4. Across the Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We discover Thorin's world through Thorin's words. And so does Thranduil.  
> "Across The Bridge" refears to the path that links Thranduil and Thorin's Life. And Thranduil decides to cross it.

> For this very moment
> 
> Of timeless age
> 
> Fears of deeper insight
> 
> Surpass me.
> 
> _Soul glass_ -  **Enid**
> 
>  

The second Friday.

Thorin’s to do list is very short: bring two couple of glasses for red wine. Two taller, for the soft and gentle one, two larger, for the strong and well-structured one. And, of course, food. To serve the perfect food with the wine is one of the most difficult thing in the world. If you are not Thorin.

9.22 pm.

As they sit around the big lab table, Thranduil’s eyeglasses are propped on his head and his hair are styled, as usual, in a long side braid. He’s so elegant, even if he’s wearing a simple black turtleneck sweater with black jeans. Thranduil observes with curious eyes Thorin.

“It seems I’ve underestimated your knowledge about wine” says the young man, commenting about the glasses, the wines and the food.

“You did?” replies Thorin with a satisfied smile.

“With what we start?” asks impatiently Thranduil.

“With this one” replies Thorin, “robust, powerful and well-structured. It’s strong but maybe a bit lack in aromatic aspect, if you are interested in it. For that reason the second wine is fruity, delicate and pleasant. With the second one there’s bitter chocolate: the best choice to taste it. With the first one, we are going to eat French sliced meat and cheeses. Perfect with this wine. Also I don’t want that you get drunk…”.

“There’s no risk with me: I never get drunk” specifies Thranduil with offended expression.

“Everyone says so! And, at the end, I’m the only one on his feet” says Thorin, laughing.

“Do you get drunk often?” asks Thranduil with a smirk.

“No, wait…no! That’s not the point!”

“Ok, I don’t need to know more than this. However, will I have heartburn tomorrow? I know it’s depends about the quantity of sulphites inside the wine. And this compromises the quality of the wine as well. Isn’t it?” asks Thranduil with interest.

“Yes, that’s true.  The rules about the use of sulphites in wine production are clear. There is a maximum but this doesn’t mean that you have to use a lot of them, even under the maximum limit. That’s what some producers do. The quality of the wine is, of course, affected by this bad behaviour, if we can say so. Tomorrow you will feel good. No heavy head, no heartburn, no mouth dryness, trust me”.

Thranduil is checking the wines’ labels, “Ironshield”, one of the most popular and well-known wine producer of the country. Then he asks:

“Something to do with your family?”

Smart guy.

“Well, it’s a long story, not so long but.... Yes, my grandfather was the founder and the first producer and my father after him” says Thorin watching the wine through the glass, “I have many memories about that period; when I was young my father used to bring me with him in vineyards to teach me all he knew about viticulture, wine production and wine tasting. I was supposed to continue his job but…at the end I took another way” says Thorin, smelling the aromas of wine. “The most interesting part was the journey to reach that place, where we had the vineyards. It took more or less 40 minutes and… I don’t know why…it was fascinating for me to watch outside the car’s window the changing of seasons, animals, other cars and unaware people. I was a stupid boy. Now the company belongs to my cousin, who kept part of our family surname and blended it with his” adds Thorin smiling, lost in some memories far from where he is now.

“I don’t think you were stupid; anyway” says Thranduil with a sweet smile, “I’ve seen one old car park here outside. A red one. Is this your father’s car?”

Very observing smart guy.

“Exactly. It costs more than I make in a month but…I can’t part with it. I can’t help it.”

“How you ended up as a tech with such a great wine empire?”

“I’ve always been interested in this area and, one day, simply I realized that my passion could become my work. My father was so angry with me. I’m not sure at the end he forgave me…I will live with this doubt”.

“Sometime I think we are made to disappoint our parents. But only on the surface, never deeply. It’s a kind of…natural way to close the loop” says Thranduil as he sips the wine.

“Sometimes it’s so easy to fuck the entire life up…this should be considered a crime” adds Thorin bitterly.

“So what is your fault that you consider a crime?” asks Thranduil inquisitively.

Thorin stays silent, eyes on the floor.

“Oh **,** sorry... I should not ask such things, it’s wrong and…” Thranduil apologizes.

“No, no, it’s a legitimate question, it’s ok” says Thorin watching him in his eyes, “I was employed in a big society. Yes, the Erebor company. I had to quit my job because…I felt so restless with it. Stay under that rules and those kind of people…these were killing me. I just could not keep going with it. I did it for too much time, probably the whole of my life, to keep faith with my strong sense of duty, to be in accordance to what my family expected from me. It brought me nothing. One bad divorce and one annihilating job” says Thorin with sadness but with a perfect sense of clarity, new to him. The wine effect, thinks Thorin.

“So, six months ago I started with this activity. Well, it’s exactly what I wanted to do from the beginning. But now I see it’s not easy as I thought. Everything is my own task: pay the bills monthly or in advance…and the salary. It’s not automatic: no one is going to pay me now!”, Thorin laughs, “So, I left behind some responsibilities to face heavier ones. I’m totally fool”.

Thranduil listens carefully. Eventually, he tilts his head: “The weight of unhappiness is heavy to bear. But the weight of happiness is heavier and” - silence - “…unbearably necessary”.

Thorin can’t add another word. He watches Thranduil; this young guy seems to understand him better than anyone else. Not even his family. It’s comforting and so inexplicably heartwarming.

“it’s a hard thought for a young guy like you…”

“I’m not as young as you think” says Thranduil, “I’m 27 and to be young doesn’t mean that you are not aware of life”.

“27? I thought you were 22, you know that? You look younger” says Thorin.

“This is the effect of living the external reality like the internal one” replies Thranduil

“Of…what?”

“Nothing, don’t mind it. Go on” replies drily Thranduil.

“No, wait, that’s your turn now. I’ve spoken so much and I don’t know anything about you” makes clear Thorin.

“I’m not so talkative…A good listener but not a good talker”, he smiles, “my life is not so interesting”.

“Well, if the interesting life is not yours, no one has it” Thorin says.

“So, what do you want to know about me?” provokes Thranduil.

“Normal things like your work, what kind of person you are, what do you like to eat…stupid stuffs”

“If you really want to know something about me as Person, you have to stand up” says Thranduil.

“What?”

“Stand up!” replies Thranduil as he stands up.

So Thorin does stand.

Thranduil reaches Thorin and pulls him in a tight embrace. Thorin feels strange and vulnerable in the beginning but, after the first shock, as the tension leaves him, he relaxes. And hugs back Thranduil. Thorin’s heart is throbbing fast but, in few moments, it starts to beat at the same tempus of Thranduil. Their body communicate. Thranduil’s right hand is placed at the base of Thorin’s neck, hot, comfortable and…restorative? Thorin thinks so.

His scent is filling Thorin’s nostril; that smell has the same effect of drunkenness: inebriating, intoxicating and addictive. From the thin sweater, Thorin can feel the body shape of Thranduil’s back. He would like to kiss his skin. He would beg him to not draw back from the embrace, never. One eternity he should pass in that safe place.

Thranduil keeps his eyes closed. He is focused on Thorin’s body. He can feel his doubts, hopes, desires and worries. So he decides to kiss him lightly on his mouth. A chaste little peck.

“I won’t make you happy” says Thorin with pain in the heart.

Thranduil draws back from the embrace without losing their eyes contact: “How few you know about yourself”.

Then, Thorin, beaten, gathers him in one more tight embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some philosophical references: Plato, J.C.F. Hölderlin, S.A. Kierkegaard and E. Hillesum.


	5. from the Body to the Soul again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their souls, also the bodies unite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been fascinating by the Romantic vision (I mean Schiller, Schlegel, Novalis, Hölderlin, Goethe, Heine and so on) about the relationship body-soul: the soul is mirrored in the body. And, through the body, we become aware of it. It's the only way to break the Classical dualism.
> 
> !! I'm sorry for the plaid shirt. I had to !!  
> I know you understand perfectly :) !  
> Do you need a visual image for reference? Nah, I dont think so ;)

 

> And in all this
> 
> Can you see me in the light?
> 
> _Siehst Du mich im Licht?_ -  **Lacrimosa**
> 
>  

Saturday. 7.28 pm.

As Thranduil steps in, Thorin engages him in a fond kiss. And, with a deep breath, he drinks Thranduil’s scent, woody and spicy. His scent recalls him something. Probably an aroma from his childhood. “I missed you” he says while he’s blushing tenderly. Thranduil simply smiles back observing his thin lips.

“I really like your apartment”, says Thranduil standing in the middle of the living room, “it’s exactly like you: messy but cozy, linear and a bit severe…like your lips”.

“I’m pretending that’s a compliment” comments Thorin.

“I would say that’s a fact of your life” smirks Thranduil.

How it’s possible he’s so attractive wearing a red and black plaid shirt? Thorin doesn’t know at all. But that’s another fact of life, he thinks.

“You will see in my apartment there’s no more extra space. There are more books than things. One day of these I will sleep outside and books in my bed” says Thranduil as he sits in big armchair. Thorin laughs and takes his place next to him but on the sofa.

“You are the last man on the world who buys paper books” says Thorin.

“Maybe  but there’s nothing I can do about it. An e-book is not the same of a printed book. You feel everything with the book in your hands. The quality of the paper, the smell of the book and” – silence  – “as you read it, you become a part of it. I mean, you give your own story to it. And you can write on it. I have the bad manner to write on books…you know simple things, thoughts, impressions. Of course not if it’s a luxury edition. For that reason I have very few of them” smiles Thranduil.

Thorin opens the bottle of white wine as he listens to him. Pouring two glasses of Chardonnay, he asks:

“Are you ready now for the big question?”

Thranduil observes him quizzically.

“How can one become model? Or, better, how you became a model. I’m too curious about it”, says Thorin.

Thranduil laughs: “You will be disappointed at the end, trust me. Anyway… here comes the answer: by chance”.

“By chance?” replies Thorin with his eyebrow raised.

“Well, it happened the summer between high school and university. I was in London with a couple of friends. We had a metal concert the day before and we were totally ravaged. You can paint that moment. So, we were walking near some famous park and one lady  approached me giving me a business card. And she said that she was searching for a male model exactly like me. I bursted out laughing in her face like an idiot, my friends too ‘cause we thought it was a kind of joke or candid camera. Image this…three foreigner  guys in London having good time…that’s perfect for a candid camera. But she was serious and I got an appointment the day after for a casting. Unbelievable, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s crazy”, says Thorin, “and what about a casting? What happens in a casting?”

“Well” says Thranduil as he takes a sip of the white wine, “it’s depends about the agencies and what they need. Usually they take shot about you, they ask you things like your measurements or if you’ve already done something like that. And…yes, that’s all. If they contact you again...probably you’re going to do another casting with more shots. That’s not so interesting…isn’t it?” asks quizzically Thranduil.

“It’s not what normal people assume. But it cannot be all the time like so. Do you have fun? I cannot see it like a normal job” replies Thorin.

“We can say that’s depends about people. I mean I’m interested in photography and arts in general, so it’s a pleasure now, after years of experience; I can work together with photographers giving my contribution, if I’m allowed to”, says Thranduil, “for example…look here. I got this shot precisely this morning” as he reaches his mobile and searches for something.

“It’s not ready it’s just a preview but…Mmm”, scrolling down his emails list, “Here. Look”, says Thranduil sitting next to Thorin on the sofa, “last Wednesday…oh ja, do you remember I got blue hair?”.

“Yeah” says Thorin blushing. Oh yes, the blow job.

“Well, that’s what happened” says Thranduil showing a picture.

The shot atmosphere is a light blue-green colour and it’s taken in a wood. Thranduil is immersed in water, only his face and part of the chest emerge from the river. In the picture, he’s wearing a long fitted white shirt with a long and thin black tie. Trousers are hidden by the shirt. His skin shines through the wet cloth. His hair is meticulously gathered together, even if untied, in the water. It’s impressive how the water intensifies both the blond and the light blue hair’s colour. Arms are parallel to the body but open in a natural position. Thranduil is literary floating on the water. His eyes are open as the mouth, slightly open in a little soft curve, almost imperceptible and certainly sad.

“I got this idea for that photographer who is exploring the world of art for an exhibition. A modern fragile male version of Ophelia. And, of course, he was enthusiastic about this. We worked together to plan every single detail. And that’s the result. He’s going to show the shot in his next exhibition in New York and he said this will be the main shot” explains Thranduil.

“That’s simply…simply… I’m speechless”, replies Thorin considerably affected by the shot, “You really was in the water?”

“Yes and it was so damned cold!”, Thranduil laughs, “In general for shots it’s better to choose real places. First the effect is totally different: viewers tend to notice if the area is natural or just a built setting. And, so, also the result is different. Photographers always search for real location: if the place is real, so it will be the experience. Both for photographer and viewer”, says Thranduil.

Thorin moves forward to kiss Thranduil. That’s action, in that moment, is out of place. He knows it. He would listen to his voice, like Thranduil did the day before. He would know everything about his life. He would melt his fears, if he has them. But his body is calling before his mind.

Then Thranduil reaches forwards, rubbing their noses as they meet again, brushing their lips against each other. It’s just a touch: short-lived, sweet and sad, in such way.

Thorin cannot keep the sadness anymore, so he leans forwards again, this time parting his lips and laying a hot kiss against Thranduil’s mouth. There’s no more time for that gloomy sadness that lies between them. With no reason. And Thorin’s tongue enters Thranduil’s mouth.

Thranduil leads Thorin by the wrist to the bedroom. With quick hands, Thranduil removes Thorin’s clothes carefully, with adoration in his eyes. First the camouflage t-shirt: Thorin chest is finally revealed. Thranduil explores his strong and large and muscular chest with every inch of his fingers. His left nipple is pierced with a ring. Thranduil wants to suck it until Thorin comes screaming. There will be time to do it.

As they kiss in a soft way, Thranduil works with his long fingers to pull Thorin’s underpants down. Now Thorin is naked but doesn’t feel any embarrassment: he’s exactly where he wants to be.

Thranduil’s expert fingers glide until they reach Thorin’s buttocks. He roughly grabs them and squeezes. Thorin moans between their kisses and start to unfasten Thranduil’s shirt. His body is lithe and slender, his skin so white; as his jeans slips down to the ground, Thranduil presses his body against Thorin and both of them can feel their own arousals.

“Lay down, Thorin”, says Thranduil, as he wriggles out of his underpants. Thorin obeys.

Thranduil place himself between Thorin’s spread legs. He reaches Thorin’s ear with his mouth kissing and biting. Thorin keeps his eyes closed as he strokes Thranduil’s hair: they are soft like silk. Trailing kisses and licking his skin, Thranduil travels with lips and tongue from Thorin’s ear to his chest to reach his left nipple. He plays with tongue and teeth, sucking,  pinching and tugging the steel ring, sometimes gently sometimes strongly. The fingers of the left hand pinch the right nipple. Thorin’s groans are filthy and lascivious. Thranduil wants him like so forever.

“Where to find lube?” asks Thranduil breaking his job with Thorin’s piercing.

“In the wardrobe” whispers Thorin.

In few seconds Thranduil takes it and comes back to the bed, climbing over Thorin once again. Thorin watches carefully as he coats his fingers, with anticipation and excitement. Thranduil firstly rubs around Thorin’s opening, swirling his finger around the hole. Even if the legs are a bit in tension, Thorin’s chest rises and falls calmly as he breaths; when Thranduil pushes his finger in, Thorin gasps. Thranduil gives him some seconds to accustom. Then he adds his middle fingers without losing time. Thorin shuts his eyes and gasps again, loudly this time. But the experience is too beautiful to stop it. It’s shocking how Thranduil changes his manner to handle with his body, thinks Thorin. It’s, at the same time, hard and soft, delicate and painful.

Eventually, Thorin opens again his eyes, just in time to see Thranduil’s assault: rough kisses devour his lips, asking for more with every single kiss. Thranduil’s tongue is literary violating Thorin as he claims every remote corner of Thorin’s mouth. And his fingers start to move inside his body, pushing them in and out.

As Thorin’s body begins to answer, Thranduil adds the third finger pressing harder. He reaches Thorin’s prostate with controlled and regular strokes. As Thorin stretches around Thranduil’s fingers, he arches his back and rolls his eyes back, panting for more: “more…more…take me”.

He’s ready, Thranduil thinks, as he pushes out his slick fingers. He coats his length with lubricant. Thorin licks his lips and brushes his palm over Thranduil’s lower belly, because the view is too much filthy. Then, Thranduil kneels in the middle of Thorin’ spread legs. With hands he spreads further his legs and with his arms lifts Thorin’s hips: he’s huge and this will help both.

So Thranduil starts to press his cock against Thorin’s entrance. His eyes looks up towards his face. Thorin is lost in their love making, his eyes are half-closed, his thin lips are parted. With the left hand to support his weight and the right one at the base of his own huge cock, Thranduil pushes his hips forward and he slides inside Thorin’s body. Thorin shivers: it’s simultaneously too much and not enough. His eyes are now widely opened and glued to Thranduil’s face. It’s feels like to be fucked by a god.

As Thranduil’length is fully inside him, Thorin grabs Thranduil’s buttocks: he wants to feel more, he asks for more. He throws his head back and moans languidly. Thranduil need to reposition himself, lowering his body over Thorin’s until he can reach his lips: he kisses him with all the fondness possible in that moment. They are so close and chained that Thorin feels Thranduil’s hair tickling his chest. He smiles under their kiss. But for Thranduil it’s not enough: he slids his hands under Thorin to throw his arms around his shoulders. This is the perfection: not a single inch of air to split them. Thranduil feels Thorin’s muscular back and thrusts harder. Thorin moans and moves his hips in answer accordingly, to meet Thranduil’s cock fully. Their lips unite once again, their tongues intertwine with lust. And it’s like an eternity.

Thorin comes for first: his cock, pressed by Thranduil’s upper belly, feels overstimulated. Too much emotions, too much perceptions, too much lust for coming.

As Thorin comes, Thranduil marks Thorin’s neck with a huge hickey while he continues to fuck him harder. Thorin belongs to _him_. Thorin laughs frantically, half addicted and half spent. And Thranduil reaches his climax panting silently, keeping his eyes contact with Thorin as he spills his seed inside him.

Thranduil is still inside Thorin’s body as they calm down, waiting for their hearts to get a normal heartbeat. Thranduil places a tiny kiss on Thorin’s tip of the nose before he rests his head on Thorin’s chest and closes his eyes.

They don’t need to speak.

The silence between them is not absence but presence. It’s a full existence that covers worlds, time and thoughts. And Thranduil falls asleep as he feels the fragment of Life in their embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original verse of Lacrimosa's song is in German:  
> "Und bei allem  
> Siehst du mich im Licht?"


	6. Family reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's seems that we have a quick family reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love family reunion. Both in real life and in books.

>  For love
> 
> The only thing
> 
> That makes us human
> 
> _All the love_ -  **Ulver**

 

Sunday. 9.47 am

As Thorin wakes up, alone, in his bed, his face clouds over.  No sounds from the kitchen or from other rooms in the apartment.

Putting a green camouflage t-shirt and a pair of  black sweats on, he checks at the doorway. There’s no mark of his backpack or his coat. So Thranduil is gone. And Thorin feels quite mad furious.

The idea is to take his mobile and insult him, in the remote event that Thranduil would answer the call.

With all these heavy thoughts in his head, the entrance door opens.

“Oh, good morning! You’ve already woken up!” says Thranduil with surprise.

“Where have you been? Don’t do this again” replies one disturbed Thorin.

“What are you talking about?” as Thranduil takes the coat and the shoes off, placing a little package on the entrance table together with Thorin’s keys.

“You were supposed to be here. I really dislike to wake up alone, if I know that I’m not. Don’t-do-this-again” says Thorin with harsh voice .

Severe as his lips, Thranduil thinks, and sometimes with bad manner, especially if he feels, in such way, hurt or betrayed. Nothing has changed. Eventually, he replies:

“No one wants to wake up alone”, says Thranduil drily, but he changes immediately his tone for he doesn’t want to lose time arguing. “I went out to buy our breakfast”, says with a sweet smile, “I thought I could come back before you woke up”.

Thorin gives a look at the clock: “I must go to the lab: I have work to do there for tomorrow”.

“May I come with you? I have a book with me…I won’t disturb you while you work. We’ll have Mexican style coffee and _croissants_ in your laboratory: they will taste better there” says Thranduil smiling softly.

 Thorin regrets the harsh tone and blushes violently: “What are you going to do after… _my work_ this evening?”.

“I’ll stay with you. I’ve two weeks free from work” replies Thranduil.

 

The same Sunday. 5.47 pm.

This shall seem like a suicidal choice in the eyes of most people.  
To bring your man/ boyfriend-to-be/whatever-he-is to a family reunion is not exactly what can be considered an easy Sunday evening. Especially if you are not sure about the nature of your relationship with that guy.

This shall seem foolish. What kind of answer will he give when his cousins, his sister and the rest of the family ask about that man? And…what about that big bruise on his neck, half hidden by the shirt’s collar and half having everyone’s eyes on it? Keyword: to move forward.

This shall seem, also, like a test. If Thranduil survives, it worths. If Thranduil decides to remain, it worths. If Thranduil escapes, it doesn’t worth. And what if Thranduil opts for leaving him? “I don’t think I will endure it”, thinks Thorin.

But Thranduil has already chosen.

As Thorin is immersed in his bad thoughts, driving his car, with Thranduil seated next to him, the younger man speaks:

“Tell me where we are going, at least. Am I properly dressed?” asks Thranduil a bit disappointed.

“You look good in anything you wear” answers Thorin drily.

“Well, thanks, but that’s not the point…you know, I didn’t mean that” says Thranduil quietly.

“To a party”.

“What party?”.

“Family party” says Thorin “better to say…that mess I call family”.

“You are telling me we are going to a family reunion? Your family reunion?”

Thorin nods silently, without move his eyes from the street.

“Is it official or unofficial?” says Thranduil with a smirk.

“What?” barks Thorin.

“What…what..” replies Thranduil mocking him.

“You don’t like logical explanation or «aut-aut», in your words, and you’re asking for that now?” says Thorin laughing but blushing violently.

Thranduil studies carefully Thorin’s face. Even if it’s dark in the car, he can see perfectly his reaction.

“So so, at the end, it seems that I’ve trapped you” says Thranduil smiling and resting his head on Thorin’s right shoulder.

********

Standing  near the young smiling man, as they’re watching as Kili and Fili are besieging and tormenting their favourite uncle, Dìs thinks that she’s happy for him. Thorin deserves happiness, she has always thought that. After all the wrong choices, perfectly clear to everyone but Thorin, finally, there’s someone who should bring a pure joy in his life. And it’s evident: Thorin looks better than ever in his life.

The young man is more than charming and seems shrouded in tranquillity. Yes, tranquillity, like an aura.

“Oh, I’m ill-mannered. My name is Dìs, I’m Thorin’sister” says Dìs shaking her hand with Thranduil’s.

“Thranduil, it’s a pleasure to meet you” replies Thranduil with a smile.

“And these two pests are Kili and Fili. Now they have “their” uncle so you can say farewell to Thorin!” Dìs says taking Thranduil by his arm and driving him to the enormous buffet in the middle of the room.

The room is not a simple room but a congress hall in the old estate where, now, they use to do every sort of event. Of course, concerning wine. Thranduil is not sure about the number but, more or less, there are 30/35 people in the hall. Screaming children, laughs, murmuring, glances, glasses, every sort of food. Despite all his hate for that kind of events, in which he is always obliged to take part because of his work, Thranduil feels… Feels like home.

“I hope you enjoy wine…there’s no water here, of course from 18 years old up! It’s a sort of… _Déformation professionnelle_ , job conditioning!” laughs Dìs.

“Good to know” laughs Thranduil, as he spills two glasses of red wine for him and for Dìs, “I’m quite fond of wines so that’s a paradise for me”.

“Have I heard right? You’re interested in wine? So double welcome in our family! I’m Balin”, shaking Thranduil’s hand with a very strong hold, “and you have to be the first to taste that little miracle of wine. Wait here!” says Balin as he runs through the hall.

Just in time for Thorin to join him: “Sorry, I was busy…those two little guys are my ruin”, says Thorin kissing Dìs on her cheek.

“You are the favourite…it’s a full time job and a moral duty!” adds Thranduil.

“Thank you for simplify the circumstance” comments Thorin, “what are you doing here?”.

“Waiting for Balin…I think he need Thranduil to taste the new wine” says Dìs.

“Why only him? I’ve not tried yet. Have you seen Dain?” asks Thorin.

“Thorin!” a strong and deep voice resounds. Dain approaches, followed by Balin who holds a bottle of wine in his hand. The man is enormous, on a massive scale enormous. He squeezes Thorin in a bear hug. Can Thorin breath again? Then, he turns to the guest: “Thranduil, right? Dain” with a handclasp that recalls an iron grip.

“Yes, nice to meet you” smiles Thranduil with an imperceptible grimace of pain.

“Alright, cut the chatter, men”, says Dain ignoring Dìs and speaking directly to Thranduil, “you are the first outside the family to taste it. So, speak honesty” spilling five glasses of a red wine.

“Well, I’ve not even tasted it before” adds Thorin.

“But you know what we are talking about, he doesn’t” specifies Dain.

Thranduil knows what he is about.

The first step is to observe the wine: transparency, clearness and potential effervescence. The second step is the colour: intensity, tonality and shades.

“Still, ruby red, intense shades. The wine does not seem mature or aged: too deep red for this. So I think it’s depends about the grape type” says eventually Thranduil.

Silence. Everybody is observing Thranduil in silence.

Third step: sense of smell. With a deep breath, Thranduil inhales the wine with closed eyes. He knows that’s a matter of memory. What do you remember? Dried fruits, fresh fruits, flowers and one faraway night spent in the wood with his love.

Forth step: sense of taste. A little sip. Sweet, bitter, acid, salty. Again, what do you remember?

“Astringent wine with a strong tannin acid. It’s perfect” says Thranduil after reviewing the clues.

“Astonishing” says Balin.

“Wait wait…what hints you taste?” says Dain.

Thranduil takes another sip. The wine travels in his mouth. Then he swallows it. One more extra sip, to be sure.

“Well, basics are fruits, both dried and fresh, and flowers. I’m not sure about what kind of flowers… I need more time to think. In the middle, hint of black berry. And at the end…", Thranduil takes a pause, "Musk. I’m sure about musk”

“And..?” chases Dain.

“And… I would say leather” says Thranduil looking Dain straight in his eyes.

 “Well, if one day you’re bored of your job…come here. We always need professional tasters” says Dain clearly impressed by the guy.

“This would be a great honour, thanks” says Thranduil.

***** Some hours later (Monday. 00.17 am)

As they relax in Thorin’s bed, between one kiss and another, Thorin asks:

“Where have you learnt all that about wine?”

“Oh, just interest. And years of experience, above all” replies Thranduil.

“You should leave your job and join our company”, now Thorin is licking and sucking Thranduil’s left ear. His lobe and his ear’s profile, until he reaches the tip of the ear. Thranduil seems enjoy that place particularly, judging by how he moans softly.

“This might be your wish but not mine” says Thranduil breathing out heavily.

“Your scent drives me crazy” says Thorin, moving his body against Thranduil’s, without releasing Thranduil’s ear.

Suddenly Thorin stops and flips Thranduil over, onto his belly. Thorin brushes his fingers along his shiny hair and breaths the scent. Then he gathers the silky hair together and places them gently on the side. Thorin brushes his hand over Thranduil’s nude back. His skin is so perfect and soft. He starts to trail light kisses from the right shoulder to his right buttock. And then again, on the left side, biting the skin.

“No bruises!” says Thranduil menacingly.

“But…you’re free from work? For two weeks?” stops Thorin.

“Yes”

“Enough” says Thorin resuming bites.

As he reaches his ass, Thranduil feels Thorin’s warm tongue and breath in his butt cleft. Meticulously he traces all the path down with the tip of his tongue.

Thranduil takes a huge gasp of air as Thorin’s tongue reaches his opening; Thorin stops for few seconds only to continue his travel to Thranduil’s balls. There he places a tiny kiss. Then he goes back with pleasant licks to Thranduil’s entrance; he slides his tongue around his hole’s edge. There’s no hurry and Thranduil seems to enjoy it. When his rim is well wet, Thorin blows a cold puff of air. Thranduil twitches silently.

It’s a sense of discomfort that Thranduil feels when Thorin pushes his tongue gently inside him. But only in the beginning. As Thorin starts with slow and calm thrusts, he feels so relaxed and good and... he focuses on Thorin’s tongue inside his body, Thorin’s lips around his hole and Thorin’s tip of the nose that rubs gently his skin just above his hole. With eyes closed Thranduil grabs the sheets and moans slightly, as he always does.

When Thorin slips his middle finger and works together with tongue, Thranduil arches his back all of a sudden. The hole is slick, there’s no need of lube there. As Thorin takes his tongue away, he adds his index and opens his fingers like scissors. Thranduil tilts his head forward keeping his back arched as he feels his body stretched. Thorin pushes in and out his fingers patiently: he’s enjoying how Thranduil’s body answers to his stimulation.

Thorin stops his work pushing out his fingers from Thranduil's body; then he knees in the middle of his spread legs. Thranduil lays on the bed to relax his back and turns his head to watch as Thorin coats his large cock with lube; drops of lubricant ooze out of his length and fall on the sheet. Doesn’t matter.

Thorin penetrates Thranduil not so gently. He likes it so much. Thranduil opens his eyes wide and gasps loudly. Thorin bends over to embrace and sustain him with his right arm and hand. With his left hand, he reaches Thranduil’s jaw to caress it. Then he pushes his middle finger in Thranduil’s mouth. As Thranduil sucks vehemently it, Thorin adds the second one in his mouth. Thranduil’s tongue dances around his fingers. In that moment Thorin thrusts forward with his hips. Not so gently. He likes it so much. Increasing the speed with no mercy. It’s like to fuck a beautiful god.

Keeping a fast pace, Thorin sees that his mouth is at the right height of Thranduil’s left ear. He sucks it with filthy noises and, as climax grows unbearably up in his groin, he pushes his fingers out Thranduil’s mouth to grab his hard cock. Thorin strokes it with slow but firm movements. His touch is nearly orgasmic for Thranduil. And both of them come, almost at the same time.

As Thranduil feels Thorin’s seed dripping between his thighs, he ties tightly his arms around Thorin’s chest.

Thorin kisses his neck and shut his eyes, comforted by their contact and warmth. Then, he takes the duvet to cover both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "aut aut" in Latin means that we are in the presence of an alternative that we cannot escape.


	7. Past/Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This should be my tattoo” comments Thorin laughing.  
> “It’s enough to blend it in your life” smiles Thranduil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy it.
> 
> A big Thank You to ❤️Lancelottie❤️. [here her Thorinduil blog](http://thranduil-thorinduil.tumblr.com)/>

 

> All the endless beauty, all absurd
> 
> All lashing hopes, all indecisiveness
> 
> Are, at the end, pieces of meaning, part of the mystery
> 
> The light on the edges of darkness
> 
> _Valot pimeyksien reuniolla_ -  **Apulanta**

 

Tuesday. 10.22 pm

As Thranduil pushes his hips forward, Thorin moans. The penetration is not difficult and his huge cock slides inside him pleasantly. Thorin feels his body stretched and expanded. And his lips are instantly covered by Thranduil’s, hot and tempting.

Thranduil’s hands slide over his back. One hand reach his neck, the other grabs Thorin’s buttock. Trusts become faster. His belly is pressed against Thorin’s shaft. The pressure and the stimulation is unbearably pleasant, as Thorin moves his body in accordance with Thranduil.

“I wanna come…” Thorin whispers in his ear.

Thranduil doesn’t like to speak as they fuck.

“No, wait…wait”, however he replies, as he raises his body lightly, just the minimum to stop the rubbing against Thorin’s cock. And he grips his writs in his hands.

“Oh fuuck” complains Thorin, who is a step to coming.

But Thranduil doesn’t comment on it. He only pushes his hips forward and back. All of a sudden, he stops. He pulls his cock out Thorin’s body and wait some second. He’s breathing heavily and his eyes are closed. His right hand holds his cock at the base, motionless.

The mineral jade lamp placed on Thranduil’s bedside table throws a surreal shade of warm green on his skin. He’s such a beauty.

Thorin is not so patient, Thranduil knows it. So, he places the head of his cock at Thorin’s entrance, for the second time that night, and trusts deeply with only one hard push.

Thorin moans loudly, grabbing the sheet with both hands; Thranduil arouses Thorin’s prostate with more deep trusts. And, after a while, he comes inside Thorin’s body.

As all his seed is spent, Thranduil lays blissfully next to Thorin with closed eyes.

“Take your time…no hurry here…” comments tartly Thorin, who is, in any case, amazed by his own actual calmness despite his arousal.

Thranduil smiles turning his head to watch Thorin’s eyes. And says: “I want you to come in my mouth”.

Well, Thranduil is not a great talker. But, when he talks, he makes an impression; especially when he says _some_ things. And he is always effective on Thorin.

Thranduil moves to reach Thorin’s mouth and kisses him fondly. As they play with their tongues, he glides gracefully on the bed sheets and places himself between Thorin’s legs.

Thranduil starts stroking slowly his shaft and cupping the sack in his hand.

“Oh yes..” whispers Thorin.

He strokes lightly his balls with his fingers. Thorin’s moans become very lascivious as Thranduil puts the whole right testicle in his mouth and plays with the tongue licking lightly. Then, he moves to the other one to nibble it and suck it, slowly and gently, with his lips. As Thorin moans again, he places two tiny kisses on each ball before he focuses on his large cock.

He places a little kiss at the base of the penis and, then, he trails the whole shaft with small kisses. Thorin’s fingers slide in his hair to reach his scalp and massage his silky straight blond hair. Thorin loves his hair.

When Thranduil reaches the tip of the cock, he licks it to drink the drop of precum. Then, he presses his tongue lightly in his meatus.

“ _Sublime_ ”, says Thorin, tightening the grab in Thranduil’s hair.

Then he moves back, and reaches the spot between the balls and the base of the cock. He sucks it keeping eyes contact with Thorin. So naughty. His lips are wonderful like that.

With a sudden movement, Thranduil’s right hand reaches Thorin’s pierced nipple. Thranduil adores it. He twists and pulls it lightly. Thorin moans, again, loudly.

As Thranduil is satisfied, he leaves the nipple and stops with sucking. He brushes his left cheek on the side of Thorin’s cock. Slowly, up and down. And, as his lips reach Thorin’s tip, he wraps them around it.

Thorin is totally overpowered by that vision: Thranduil is literary worshipping his cock. And it’s a powerful sensation.

Thranduil pushes his mouth along Thorin’s shaft, slowly, testing every single inch of it. Then, he tilts his head and the tip of the cock brushes against the inner part of his cheek. After a while, he tilts again his head, on the other side, and repeats the action, as his tongue massage the lower part of his cock.

Thorin comes without warning.

Thranduil swallows and licks the tip of the cock to not waste any drop.

Thorin laughs frantically for the overexcited gesture. Then he closes his eyes for some seconds.

Thranduil kisses him gently on his chest before he climbs him over to reach the tiny jar on the bedside table. Thorin opens his eyes. He adores that habit since the first time he saw it. Thranduil spreads a little amount of lip balm on his lips. Then, he comes back at his side to cuddle him.

More than ten minutes passes as they stay embraced in their heat. Eventually Thranduil speaks:

“Do you need anything? Coffee…wine…something to eat?”

“It’s too late for coffee, for me. I would sleep a couple of hours before go to work” replies Thorin.

“Ok, wine. Red, of course” says Thranduil standing up nimbly. He puts Thorin’s t-shirt on, he braids his hair quickly and wears his eyeglasses. Then, he goes out his room.

Thranduil’s apartment is exactly as he described it. Small, clean, tidy, warm, linear. Two little rooms plus bathroom and a little kitchen. Full of books. The only big thing in the whole apartment is the bed, unusually huge also for the room’s dimensions.

With his work, thinks Thorin, he should live in a big attic in the middle of Paris. But this was not a priority in Thranduil’s life. There are books also in his small kitchen.

 “In case of earthquake, the books will keep safe the apartment” laughs Thorin.

“Sorry?” asks Thranduil from the kitchen, who is pouring the wine.

“Don’t mind it” he replies.

There are only two adornment in the two-room apartment. One is a big shot, in the living room. It’s a snowy wooded landscape with two little silhouette on the horizon. “It’s me and my father” explained Thranduil smiling. The second one it’s in his bedroom, exactly in front of his large bed.

“What does that mean?” asks Thorin reaching the glass of wine, as Thranduil comes back.

“Oh, it’s Latin. And it remember us that’s always good to keep our mind calm, in every situation” says Thranduil, as he sits down in the bed legs crossed.

“This should be my tattoo” comments Thorin laughing.

“It’s enough to blend it in your life” smiles Thranduil.

But the fact is that, Thorin need to speak with him. There’s a kind of concern inside him.

Besides, Thranduil doesn’t seem to have any kind of worries. Or no longer.

“I have a question for you”, says Thorin.

“And about time, too!” replies Thranduil with a smile.

“Well…how did you know that…I liked you?” asks Thorin.

Thranduil watches Thorin deeply in his eyes.

“Do you believe in soul mate?” asks with a smile that brings forward the answer.

“Oh please…” says Thorin, turning his head. “I’m serious” he adds annoyed, sipping the wine.

“And, do you believe in reembodiment?” smirks Thranduil, teasing him.

“I take a shower…” says Thorin pretending to leave the bed.

“Ok, ok. Listen”, says Thranduil, placing the glass on the floor, “I have three answers for your question. You will believe in the first one only but I need to explain you all of me”.

Thorin turns his body to face him fully and carefully.

“The first, the one that you and your logic will accept, is that: I’ve studied you chemically and physically. Dilated pupils, blushed cheeks, trembling voice, problems to keep eye contact, embarrassment, dismay, fast heartbeat, body posture and other little body signals. It’s not so difficult” explains Thranduil.

Thorin blushes and curses under his breath as he places his empty glass on the side table. It’s simply embarrassing, even if he knows that’s true. And Thranduil’s aim is not to mock him.

“The second – and I’m not sure you are going to accept it – is that you are not a shy man. But you become shy with me. You know why?” asks Thranduil.

“Because...I like you?” replies a huffy Thorin.

“There’s something more than this”, answers Thranduil, taking a little pause; then, he continues: “before Love, we are always in wrong”.

“The third”, adds Thranduil, studying Thorin’s puzzled face, “and you are not going to accept this, not at all”, he clears up, “the third is that: the little fragment of _your soul_ , that lives in me, has recognised you. And the same happened to you: the little fragment of _my soul_ , that lives in you, has recognised me. You can call it soul, infinite, Absolute, Life, _fëa_ , destiny, psyché, spirit and so on…but the thing doesn’t change”.

Thorin is incapable of speak. He watches Thranduil, so serious, so beautiful and so sure. He doesn’t believe to any word. Of course, only the first reason. But…soul…love…infinite…

He had a wife once. And he was sure he loved her. He got his chance to love someone. And…see what happened! He destroyed her life. And he really did. Probably his life, also.

However, he never felt so good and so loved before. Is it enough to trust again in a hallucination or self-deception? Nah, he is too old for that. And this would be diabolical for both.

But…but.

“You see, I don’t believe a word of that. You know it”, eventually Thorin speaks, “But, I believe in you. I can trust in you and I want to stay with you. Like a free man, who can decide over his life” he pauses.

“This doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. Or I’m convincing myself to love you. I love you like a mortal man, who doesn’t know anything outside his life and his experiences. With my doubts, with my fears and my intolerances. And, you, if you can bear this…you can stay in my life. Otherwise, it would be better that I leave you now immediately” adds Thorin with a strong pain in the heart.

Thranduil smiles as he caresses his cheek: “There’s no contradiction in our visions, trust me”. Silence. “There’s only one way to love. And it’s total. And, once you feel it, you can’t live without it” as he bends over to kiss him fondly.

“And yet,” says Thorin, “it seems to me so incredible”.

“What?” whispers Thranduil.

“That’s so easy to have a relationship” says Thorin.

“You mean between people? Or you mean with me?” asks Thranduil.

“With you. I mean…between us. I know it’s not easy. And not only because we are in the beginning when everything seems perfect. It’s like…”, Thorin stops, “I don’t know how to say it. I have a…sensation. Something new for me. The future will be exactly like it’s now the present”.

Thranduil smiles as he lays onto his belly, resting on elbows. He closes his eyes and stays in silence for some seconds. Then, keeping his eyes closed, he replies:

“Sometimes we have the…possibility or the fortune…to be like corn spikes under the blue sky. With the wind that cherishes us, softly. Simple in our being or simply being”.

Thorin doesn’t know what he’s talking about or what he’s thinking about. He will never know. But he knows that Thranduil will never be more beautiful than this. And he knows he will never be happier than this.

Then Thranduil opens again his eyes to watch Thorin:

“I don’t know what it will be in the future. But I know that I want nothing different from this”, adds Thranduil, “and I will work on it, with you if you want it too, to keep this state of things”.

Thorin, as answer, kisses him and they unite in a tight embrace. Then, Thranduil rests his head on Thorin’s chest.

Thranduil doesn’t speak anymore, neither Thorin.

Maybe, one day, he will remember. One music, one poem, one smell. There will be something. Or maybe not. But Thranduil doesn’t care so much.

The only important and true thing is this: in that world, in that time, they are allowed to stay together and to live side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original song's verse is in Finnish:  
> "Kaikki loputon kauneus, kaikki järjettömyys  
> Kaikki ruoskivat toiveet, kaikki päättämättömyys  
> Ovat lopulta tarkoituksen palasia, osa arvoitusta  
> Valot pimeyksien reunoilla"
> 
> Philosophical references: E. Hillesum and S.A. Kierkegaard.


	8. the Blueberry and the Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Thranduil would tell him what he’s thinking about but he knows, in that very moment, an outburst of sincerity could ruin the whole evening"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon going to upload the second part

> The soul has lost its flame.  
> Walking in familiar traces to find my way back home.  
>  So there I was.  
>  Within the sobriety of the immortals.
> 
> _When -_ **Opeth**
> 
>  

“I’m convincing myself we are almost a normal couple. Or something closer to that”, says Thorin, glancing at the other tables around them and, at the same time, regretting bitterly what he has just said.

“What you mean, exactly?”, asks Thranduil, placing the napkin on his legs with elegant movements, frowning lovely his forehead.

Evidently, it’s not true.  
They are not a normal couple. And the proof is at Thorin’s fingertips as half room eyes them up. The other half is simply pretending to not do it. And…is that a smartphone pinned to them?  
Thranduil gives his back to the room so…he is unwittingly in a safe place. Lucky he.

“I don’t know if I will get used to this”, comments Thorin.

“To…what?”, asks Thranduil with puzzled face, “Drop the melodrama and tell me!”

“Short said, they are all watching us”, trails off Thorin.

“And…so what!”

Thranduil is so well-behaved that he doesn’t turn his head to check the situations.

“I mean…that! You know what’s happening around you right now! But you don’t care!”

“Please, Thorin, a lower register. Or two, if you don’t mind”, says Thranduil without changing his calm mode.

Thorin breaths out loudly, glancing the blank wall on his left side. Then, he turns fully his attention to Thranduil.

“I don’t know”, he resumes murmuring, “if I can face these kind of public go out. It’s too embarrassing for me…‘cause you are famous or simply…beautiful”.

And the wine steward behind them doesn’t help.

“Mister Oropherion, it’s a pleasure to meet you again. Your usual choice for the wine?”

“Oh, yes, thank you”, says Thranduil nodding politely.

“So, you come here often”, comments Thorin, a bit embarrassed.

“It happens, yes, but I would not say ‘often’. They have the best meat and I tend to eat meat only here and in some others selected places”, explains Thranduil.

“And with who you come here, usually?”, asks Thorin with a tone of jealousy in his voice, trying to not show his internal turmoil.

Thranduil glances Thorin and he can’t stand from smiling lovingly, as only the model can do, with his sweet and brilliant eyes. Fact that makes Thorin a bit irritated. Then, Thranduil opens the menu and, eventually, he replies:

“Colleagues”, replies Thranduil, without lifting his eyes from the menu.

If it’s possible, Thorin feels more embarrassed and…vexed?  
‘Colleagues’ - he thinks - ‘a kind way to say cool and attractive guys’. And that idea  is enough to put him in a lather.  
Therefore, before saying something that he will regret forever, he grabs the menu in a coarse manner and opts for silence.

Thranduil lifts his eyes almost imperceptibly from the paper in his hands to study Thorin’s face.  
He’s dizzily sexy, with his thin lips closed in a sullen way, framed by the perfect groomed beard and hair carefully bunched up in a low, almost elegant, bun. His cheeks are lightly flushed, as usual when they are together.  
Even if it’s about three weeks or more that they spend time together regularly, this tender habit has not changed yet and Thranduil hopes it will last forever.  
The shirt he is wearing, petrol blue, is simply perfect to exalt his colours, especially his blue eyes.  
Thranduil would tell him what he’s thinking about but he knows, in that very moment, an outburst of sincerity could ruin the whole evening. Or the following days, potentially. So, he decides to do the unforeseen.  
With a sudden movement, he takes Thorin’s left hand inside his.

The man winched lightly for the unexpected action but he doesn’t pull his hand back, on the contrary, he intertwines his finger with Thranduil’s. That’s exactly what he need to clear his mind up.  
He feels ashamed of his behaviour and he doesn’t dare to watch the man in front of him directly in his eyes. After all, Thranduil is a patient man, with a high level of empathy and the complicity between them is unbelievably awesome.  
These and more reasons persuade Thorin to apologise:

“I know I have very bad manners” - his way to beg off - “sometimes”.

Thranduil can’t hold a sweet smile back, as he strokes his thumb on Thorin’s back of his hand.  
Then, a waitress interrupts their moment to take their order.  
Thorin would move his hand from Thranduil’s grab but the model prevents it.  
As expected, Thorin is blushing violently.

“I’ll have a steak medium rare and a side of rucola with walnuts “, says Thranduil.

“The same for me but with bakes potatoes with everything on it”, orders Thorin, quite obviously ill at ease.

“Don’t do this again”, threaten Thorin as soon as the waitress leaves their table.

“Do…what?”, asks Thranduil, with fake innocence. He’s so damned good in acting.

“I don’t feel comfortable if…we are in public”

“Do you want to know what I think about that?”, asks Thranduil smiling.

“Go on”

“Your lack of self-confidence mixed with your undeniable jealousy bury you inside your worries”, states Thranduil watching him in his eyes.

Thorin protests while he’s blushing: “I’m not jealous… it’s different! I know you have a past, a past without me and the only thing I can do is to accept it…and…there’s also your work. Even if I can’t do anything…is it legitimate?”.

“Wait, wait. Don’t mix stuffs”, says Thranduil lifting his left hand to stop him, “Now, answer honestly. What kind of trouble I give you, personally?”

“None”

“And what kind of trouble gives you my work?”

“I’m…I’m jealous… **a bit** ”, confesses Thorin, at the end.

“Is it not enough that I’m a faithful man?”

Thorin sighs and bows his gaze. He really doesn’t want to offend Thranduil, his man, only because he doesn’t know how to express his feelings.

“This is not what I meant”, lifting again his face, “You are perfect as you are, truly. That’s not you under probe. It’s only my irrational issue”, says Thorin tightening his grab on Thranduil’s hand. “I feel like…I cannot express myself in the proper way”.

“It seems that’s something irrational inside you also”, Thranduil smiles, “And so, what can we do together to fight this?”.

“Well…just give me time”, Thorin trails off, as their hands splits up, while the same waitress serves their dishes.

Thorin is impressed: Thranduil were right about the meat in that restaurant.  
The serving is impeccable. The steak is whole, allowing him to make the first break through the crispy seared outside. Fact that entices Thorin’s carnivorous side. The smell is completely incomparable to what he has already smelled in other places. To not talk about the taste. Tender and juicy and a bit spiced; the bone is left inside which also adds flavour.  
And the Italian full bodied Shiraz that Thranduil chose is the perfect coronation of the dish.

“No”, continues Thranduil, once they are left alone again.

“No…what?”, asks Thorin as his mind is totally focused on the plate before him.

“You know this doesn’t work like so”, as Thranduil cuts the first mouthful.

“You know that’s the best piece of steak I’ve ever tried? You know, right?”, comments Thorin, after swallowing the bite, watching him in astonishment. “And also the most expensive”, with sarcasm.

Thranduil smiles softly. After all, Thorin is almost an open book for him. Someone should say that’s easier because he remembers their past in another era. But maybe, also, that this kind of consciousness is heavier to bear alone.  
Without doubt it’s a kind of challenge and it’s intriguing to find old habits in a new shape. And not rarely there are surprises or differences, even if Thorin’s nature is always the same. As Thranduil’s.  
And before a juicy dish, it’s not useful to continue the discussion because Thorin will pay no attention to him. So Thranduil opts for small talk.

“I really thought about this restaurant to let you savour an impeccable steak. I’m glad if you like it. What about the wine? I’m curious to know your opinion”

“Uhm, it’s perfect”, replies Thorin without lifting his eyes from the dish, “high in alcohol with scents from blackcurrants to mocha and…black and white pepper. It’s perfect with the steak that is a bit spiced. I would expect nothing less than this from you”, says Thorin smiling, “But you know the best side dish for that masterpiece?”

“Oh, of course I know”, comments Thranduil with a hint of presumptuousness in his voice, “But today they are not listed in the menu, unfortunately. This means we have to come here again to savour the steak with mushrooms, in the perfect way”

“So you like mushrooms!”

“Yes, I adore mushrooms”

“You really are the perfect man for me”, says Thorin lifting his eyes to meet Thranduil’s.

“O-ho, that’s a confession from you!”, says Thranduil smiling in surprise.

“Well, don’t get used to that too easily”, replies Thorin as he sips his glass of wine.

“There’s no risk with you, I know”, comments Thranduil with a smile.

“I was wondering…you’ve never tried my strong point! It involves mushrooms obviously…really I would you to enjoy it!”, says Thorin.

“Great! You always say that you are a good cook but you are lazy”

“Yes, I need the right inspiration!”, laughs Thorin as he’s running the last bite out.

With a food-satisfied Thorin, the main conversation may go on: “Now I suppose we can continue with the previous issue”, states Thranduil.

“If it’s so important for you”

“Of course it is. And it’s important for the both of us”

“Mmm”, comments Thorin lifting his eyebrow, “the fact is that's not pleasant to be under inquiry”

“That’s not my aim, Thorin. On the contrary, I want you to be at your ease with me. In every situation because it's you and me, nothing less nothing more. I don’t mind other people as well as I don’t mind other situations. I care only about us. And this is true in my private life likewise in my job. It’s you that I want right here on my side”

Thorin watches Thranduil in his eyes in silence for some seconds. If he was another person, probably he would cry: not as a sign of fragility but deep love. Instead, he reaches his pocket and pulls out a little thing, something that Thranduil cannot see clearly, at first.

“I can’t think of a better time to do this. Also to show you how much I care about us”, Thorin says as he places the little thing on the table, “even if I’m a bit…shy or introvert and…I can’t find good stuffs to say to let you understand how important you are for me…and, after all, actions speak louder than words for me”.

It’s simply a silver key ring with two door keys and, as a décor, a small blueberry with a red leaf.

Thorin feels a mix of anxiety, excitement and a bit of worry. Even if in his past happened something similar, he can clearly see how different is this step now, at that point of his life. Nothing is comparable to Thranduil, nothing in his past is remotely close to what he feels for him.  
It was about two or three days that he spent thinking how to ask him such matter; and his mind was constantly blank. So he kept the keys in his pocket setting it aside waiting for a good moment and a nice thing to say. Wait…but why? How stupid he feels now. Why to waste time? So he simply speaks:

“Move in with me”, whispers Thorin, without breaking eye contact with him.

Thranduil gasps slightly. He hides his mouth with the palm of his hand while his watering eyes sparkle behind his black framed eyeglasses.  
After some seconds, he starts to laugh with his crystal laugh and tears drop from the corners of his eyes. The emotion is unbearable and the thought so surprising. One life, finally, together and…it’s Thorin who is asking for this. The keys of his home and two little decors, so accidentally perfect.

“And that’s for you”, says Thranduil, as he pulls from the pocket of his jeans a small thing and places it on the table, next to Thorin’s keys.

It’s another keychain; there are two door keys and, as a décor, there’s another key, bigger than the other two, with a strange and regular shape. It’s in silver colour, a bit burnished with a dark-grey black to give the appearance of an aged key. As Thorin can see, there’s a written on one side; they seems runes filled in with black to exalt them.

“No one is allowed to say that we are not linked in such way”, says Thorin a bit astonished, as he reaches Thranduil’s left hand, that’s now lying on the table.

“Really not”, comments Thranduil drying his cheeks from the tears with his free right hand, tightening his grab on Thorin.

“But don’t joke! I cannot move in your apartment!”

“Why not?”

“It's too small for two people!”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s perfect for us. Hot and cosy, afar from the chaotic central area and a few steps away from the wood”, says Thranduil firmly.

“Yeah, that’s the point. My job is exactly in the middle of that messy midtown. In any case, my proposal came first”

“We will talk about this matter lately, in a more appropriate situation”, trails off Thranduil, “but why a blueberry and a red leaf?”, asks Thranduil.

“Ah, it’s a bit childish, isn’t it?”, says Thorin as he’s blushing lovely.

“No, no, not at all. I like it and…it’s perfect for me, believe me”

“Oh good…I don’t know why but when I saw it I thought about you. There was something in my mind that prompts me ‘that’s for him, that’s what he would choose’. I don’t know why…”

Thranduil smiles: “You couldn’t have picked a better thing”.

“But why an old key? You think I’m ancient?!”, asks Thorin.

“Oh no no, that’s not a disapproval about you”, laughs Thranduil, “Well, it’s only…basically, I’ve chosen it for me. It’s something about my past. About my childhood, if I can say so”.

“There’s a legend, a story”, the model continues, “and when we have time I will tell you about this story, if you are interested in”.

“Sure, I really would like to know something more about your past. It’s since our third met that I ask for it”, says Thorin.

As they are walking right out the restaurant to reach Thorin’s car, Thranduil thinks that perhaps some memories are surfacing from Thorin’s subconscious. And, perhaps, in the not-too-distant future, he will fully remember.

And, if he doesn’t, who really cares?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> 


End file.
